


What Makes Family?

by GayinaPastLife



Category: Now You See Me (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dad Dylan - Freeform, Dylan Shrike but ok, Dylan loves the Horsemen, F/M, Gen, Hurt Dylan, Hypnotism, I promise, Mildly Dubious Consent, My OC is a dick, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Now You See Me 2, Protective Horsemen, Slight Emotional Manipulation, Team as Family, please be nice first fic, very mild
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2018-11-23 01:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11392944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayinaPastLife/pseuds/GayinaPastLife
Summary: Post-Macau, the Horsemen are finally settling into a routine. But Dylan is still hurting from what happened those days before New Year's Eve. Daniel is emotionally unavailable and the others just don't know what their leader isn't telling them. When a friendly face from Dylan's past reappears, he jumps at the chance to not need to be a leader for a little while. But Dylan's friend had disappeared for a reason.





	1. 4:56 AM

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first posted Fanfiction, so I will gladly accept constructive criticism. In addition, i will be looking for a beta, so if you like what you see, let me know! I hope the next chapters will be longer.  
> Copyright Notice: I do not own Now You See Me or it's Characters.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new day begins in the lives of our fugitive magicians.

The inside of the safe was dark, the only sound his terrified gasps and the horrible, inevitable sound of rushing water. He banged on the walls over and over, over and over. His breath hitched as he realized he couldn’t even tell which tiny wall was the door.  
But that wasn’t right. Where was the light? Where was the door?  
The water started pouring in faster, and his thrashing intensified. He grasped at his wrist, there was meant to be something important there, but what WAS IT? There was almost no air left, and he took a final gasp as the water closed over his head.  
There was no door, he realized, just four walls of immovable steel. His mind clouded in panic as the air faded from his lungs, and his thoughts were a racing current of  
Safewaterairtrappedwaterpleasenonohorsemenkidstrappedhelpnoairsafedadnononono

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“PLEASE!” Dylan Shrike launched forward in his bed, thrashing against his sheets, failing for the edge of the mattress. He stumbled on a drunken man’s legs to his tiny window and ripped open the curtains covering it. The moonlight blinded him, and he flinched back and let the faint light flood his bedroom, erasing shadows and highlighting the edges of his furniture. 

Dylan leaned against the wall by his window, running a shaking hand through his already tousled hair and down his face. He focused on his breathing and the feel of the rough stubble under his fingers as he attempted to allow the ragged edges of his dream to fade. As far as his nightmares went, it had been one of the tamer ones. Other visions, of the Horsemen taking his place, of a plane actually flying as they were thrown out the door. Those were the ones that had him on the floor, nursing bruises as he untangled his sheets.

Shaking his head, the eldest Horsemen turned back to his room, sitting heavily on the edge of his bed. Picking his phone up from the nightstand, he flicked it on to check the time. The faint white numbers read 4:56. Dylan sighed wearily. He knew that he wouldn’t be getting anymore sleep that night. Just like almost every night from the past three months.

Standing, he walked over to his closet, flicking on the overhead light as he went. Opening the door, Dylan let his thoughts wander as he mechanically dressed. He had tried everything short of hypnosis to get a full night’s sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, heavy walls and rushing water rise around him. He knew, logically, that he likely had PTSD. The lack of sleep, the claustrophobia, the way he knew he tensed when he heard running water. But knowing it and doing something about it were two different things, and Dylan preferred to spend his days looking after the Horsemen and prepare endless new show ideas. It was easier.

The feel of metal in his hand made Dylan pause. He looked down and froze, cataloging his own appearance. Neat business suit. Tie and jacket. Polished black work shoes. His FBI badge halfway to his inner jacket pocket. He let out a ragged sigh, dropping the badge on the bed and turning back to the closet. He slowly pulled off the jacket and tie, placing them neatly on their hangers, then popped the top buttons on his shirt. He toed his shoes back into the closet, and closed the door on them, hiding them from view. 

Picking his badge up off of the rumpled coverlet, he ran his fingers over the insignia, then over his old name. Even after three months, the ex-agent had trouble remembering the “ex” part of that title. While the ability to use his father’s name again was something he was definitely happy about, he had been Agent Dylan Rhodes, FBI, for so long, that coming to terms with the fact that entire part of his life was gone was difficult to say the least. Sighing sadly, he pulled open his nightstand drawer. Shifting a few odds and ends out of the way, he flipped open the secret bottom panel and slid his badge into the hidden space. 

Down to his socks and button down shirt, Dylan slipped out of his bedroom and padded down the spiraling staircase that led to the main floor. He flipped on the light over the sink and poured some of the strong brew he preferred into the coffee maker. As the maker started quietly bubbling and humming, Dylan opened the cupboard and pulled out the #1 Magician mug that Merritt had gotten for him as a joke. It was his favourite mug, and he used it almost every morning. Leaning on the counter, he watched the predawn light play across the waters of the Themes until the coffeemaker pulled him out of his musings with a quiet beep-beep. He poured a full serving of straight black coffee into his mug before shuffling towards the library that had become his study.

Cradling his liquid consciousness, the Horseman dropped into the chair behind his desk and pulled a pile of files toward him. Each file had a name stamped across it, all of them different job opportunities, meaning different corrupt companies and enterprises that the Eye had decided to intervene upon. As a fully initiated team, the Horsemen were able to pick their own shows, and it was up to Dylan to choose which one would be best for his magicians to go against. 

Of course, each of the others had an opinion that Dylan tried to take into consideration. It was only a shame that none of them could agree. Daniel had been loudly “suggesting” the embezzling oil tycoons of Tri-Fountains, rambling about the large variety of water based tricks they (he) could do. Dylan listened with patience and well disguised amusement, then hid the Tri-Fountains file under his desk. Lula had also made a case, cheerfully chattering about the challenge of going for the logging scheme in Argentina, happily ignoring the fact that Jack was the only one in the entire group that spoke Spanish. When it was brought up, she had simply said “That’s the challenge of it!”. Dylan had also hidden that file. Merritt hadn’t made any extreme attempts to convince him one way or another, although he had expressed interest in the drug ring looping between Chicago and Mexico City. However, Jack must have been teaching him more slight-of-hand, because any conversation with Merritt ended with the file near him, or even in his hand. Dylan had yet to tell the mentalist that he saw him doing it. Jack was simply ecstatic to have an on-stage part again, and as such had declared multiple times that he didn’t care who they were going against.

Digging the Tri-Fountains file out of the pile on his desk again, he started going through the information the Eye had supplied them. The clock ticked on the mantlepiece, sunlight crept across the floor, coffee disappeared from his mug. Dylan kept an ear open for the other Horsemen waking up as the clock passed eight. There was the thud of Jack walking into the bathroom door because Atlas had shut it on him again. And Merritt growling obscenities at the coffeemaker for not brewing fast enough. The ridiculously chipper pop radio station that Lula played when she got ready. Danny yelling at Merritt for drinking all of the fresh pot of coffee as usual. “It’s a quart of coffee! How did you drink all of it?” “Should’ve gotten down here faster, Danny-boy.” Behind his closed door, Dylan rolled his eyes. His Horsemen may all be full grown adults, but at times like this, they were really little better than children.

He had just re-focused on what was possibly an exotic animal trafficking ring on the Mediterranean when the library door swung open and Daniel walked in, a contradiction of neat clothes and his hair, which was everywhere as it grew out. Plopping in the chair on the other side of his desk inelegantly, the young showman immediately launched into another long-winded spiel about the benefits of a show by the coast. Dylan let him talk for a few seconds, then gently interrupted when Atlas stopped to take a breath. 

“What could the others do, Danny? How would this be good for the team?” Danny, with a facial expression that suggested he hadn’t thought about that at all, stopped. Dylan leaned forward. “A good leader always considers the talents and skills of everyone involved. Jack’s cards wouldn’t do as well around water.” Daniel opened his mouth to protest, but the older man held his hand up firmly. “If, and I mean if, you can come up for plausible acts for all of the team, I will consider your idea. Until then, Daniel, I am going to look at other options.” Danny’s jaw tightened, and Dylan sighed in his head. He had hoped that after the New Year’s show, Danny would be willing to open up more. But after a single awkward apology on the plane to London, everything went back to almost the exact way it was. Danny butted heads with him at every turn. (Although at least he had stopped sneaking out to look for the Eye.) He supposed it didn’t help that they were both Masters of Avoiding Feelings as well as of Magic.

Daniel had just opened his mouth to speak again when the fire alarm went off, instantly followed by Lula’s frantic scream of “My Poptarts!” Atlas rolled his eyes and Merritt’s rolling laugh echoed from the kitchen. Dylan stood up and walked to the door to go check and make sure his giant children hadn’t actually caught something on fire. He turned back to Daniel before he left the room. “I mean it Danny. I don’t want to see that file again.” The younger man rolled his eyes. “Yes, oh benevolent leader, as you say.” Dylan couldn’t keep in a sigh at that, but he decided to leave the room without responding. As he walked down the hallway, he heard a faint cry of indignant outrage from the study. He gave the slightest smirk as he pulled the file out from under his shirt. Tucking it neatly under his arm, he went to do food-related damage control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If someone could please tell me how to get the program to put paragraphs tabs, that would be fantastic, thank you.


	2. 9:02 AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see how the Horsemen learn new magic, and interact when they aren't running for their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little longer, as i had hoped. However, I don't know how long I will be able to maintain this update frequency, so stick with me! The chapters will come.

After he handled the smoking mess that was Lula’s Poptarts, Dylan propped himself in the corner of the kitchen beside the fridge and watched as Jack made up another bowl of insanely sweet cereal before putting in front of the dejected women with a smile. She offered a grin back and kissed his cheek as he dropped into the chair next to her. “Took ya long enough to get ready this morning, Lula.” He said. She slumped over his shoulder dramatically, and flirtatiously said “Well, I was tired, baby.” The pair giggled like a pair of middle-schoolers, and Merritt looked up at them from over the lip of his mug of coffee. “As much as I, personally, love listening to you two express your love to each other, in every way, I got quite enough of it last night when-” “AND that’s enough, Merritt! Come on, man!” Jack exclaimed, face flushed. The older man shrugged unapologetically. Lula offered a teasing glare at him, then smirked. 

“He’s just regretting choosing the bedroom next to yours, Jack.” Merritt started protesting, but at that moment, Daniel poked his head through the archway with a deadpan face. “Everyone is regretting choosing the bedroom on the same floor as yours, Jack.” The Slight blushed again as Merritt laughed. Even Dylan chuckled from his spot in the corner. Jack turned to look at him with a pleading expression. “Come on, Dylan, we ain’t that bad!” Dylan just looked at him with a small smile. “I’m on a different floor, Jack. There is a reason for that.” Jack groaned and made to drop his head onto the table, nearly face-planting his cereal bowl. But before his head could land, the half full bowl was in Dylan’s hands at the other end of the counter. Jack offered a muffled “Thank you.” from where his face was squished into the counter. Dylan’s response was to put the bowl back on the counter and walk toward the door.

“Once you all are finished eating, I want you in the Basement. We have work to do.” Jack and Lula chorused a “Yes, Dylan.”, quickly followed by Merritt’s slightly sarcastic “Yessir.” Daniel, still standing in the doorway, didn’t answer. Dylan looked at him for a moment, then passed him without a word. 

The Greenwich Observatory was impressive on the outside and even more so inside, even without the additions the Eye had added. But the best part, at least for the Horsemen, was the Basement. An open underground area almost the size of a football field and two stories high, the room was more than big enough to practice an tricks or stunts the Horsemen could come up with. With scaffolding coating the walls and ceiling and every prop that could be imagined in closets on the far wall, it was a veritable playground for the magicians. Before the others got down the stairs, Dylan climbed into the cross bars near the light panels and waited, shuffling a deck of cards almost lazily. He flipped the cards over themselves with ease, sparing a thought for how much he had missed being able to practice magic without hiding it. 

He watched as his Horsemen walked into the room, chatting and offering ideas to what the day’s lesson would be. With all of them under the same roof, Dylan had grasped the opportunity to improve their skills hands on. Some days were free-style practice where he walked back and forth between them, offering critique and advice. Other days were him giving all of them a straightforward lesson. And then there were Dueling days. Dylan offered a handicap, and the Horsemen did their best to incapacitate each other and him. The last one standing, usually Dylan, chose the next day’s lesson. The last time they’d dueled, fire extinguishers poured water over everything. Jack had won that day after catching Dylan slipping on a scarf Lula had dropped. His lesson choice was “Let’s See How Many Different Knots Dylan Can Escape From.”

As soon as the Horsemen reached the center of the room, they started looking around warily for Dylan. There was complete silence in the room, until Jack made the mistake of asking “Well now what?” The words had barely left his mouth when all of the lights powered down with a whine. In the near complete darkness, Merritt seemed unnaturally loud as he grumbled “And that right there is why you NEVER say “Now What”, Jackie.” Suddenly, Dylan’s disembodied voice came from nowhere. “Five. Four. Three. Two..” The sounds of scuffling started before Four, and Dylan carefully listened to the different cadences of their footsteps throughout the room. “One!” Instantly, a burst of flash paper flared from near the supply closets. The flare of light was quickly followed by a solid thump as someone was tackled to the ground. There was a brief scuffle, then Merritt calling smugly “Jack’s out!” Dylan slipped silently behind the mentalist and murmured in his ear “Well done. You gave away your location.” Merritt would later deny the scream that came out of his mouth as Dylan dropped him and tied him to a beam with his own scarf.

Of all the other two Horsemen, Lula performed better, almost getting a hit on Dylan before he handcuffed her ankle to Atlas’s wrist. Dylan silently moved back and turned on the lights again, causing groans around the room as everyone's’ eyes were assaulted. He jumped down and walked through the room, helping the others up, unlocking handcuffs and untying ropes. Jack looked up at Dylan in confusion. “Why couldn’t I get these open?” Dylan smiled slightly. “Because i made them that way. Don’t worry, it was just a demonstration.” After everyone was standing again, they circled in the middle of the room. Daniel spoke first. “Why, exactly, was that important?” The oldest Horseman leveled him a steady look.

“You never know what conditions you’ll be working in. Darkness can be a magician's greatest ally, but they must learn how to use it. None of you made an attempt to reach the upper levels. Only Jack thought to go for the supply cabinet. And it didn’t even cross anyone’s mind to look for the circuit box.” The others nodded, looking contemplative. They had long learned that Dylan’s criticism was not meant to shame, but instruct, and for the most part, they managed to take it as such. Dylan looked at them, meeting eyes. “We are going to continue to work at this until it’s as fluid as anything else you do. Understood?” Merritt, Jack, and Lula nodded, but Daniel raised his hand sarcastically. “How, precisely, are we supposed to be able to beat you, o wise one?” Dylan’s teeth clenched, but his voice was steady as he said “You say always be the smartest person in the room, Atlas? Find a way. Create an advantage. Use your teammates. You’re a good magician. Be a great one.” 

He had just turned away when Daniel muttered something under his breath. Dylan turned his head sharply back to the other Horseman. “What?” Daniel shrugged with a faux-innocent expression. “Nothing.” Frustrated, Dylan barely stopped himself from running his hands through his silvering curls as he walked back to the circuit board. Turning to look at the other four, he called “Prepare.” Merritt and Jack turned towards the storage rooms, Lula turned to the nearest I beam, and Danny turned to where he had disappeared. “Begin.” The room plunged into darkness. 

They practiced for hours. Daniel reached the main circuit board once. Jack and Lula nearly fell from a cat walk. Merritt set his jacket on fire with flash paper. Every time they reset, Dylan worked his way around the room, catching, correcting, and changing various elements of the course. He listened as Daniel yelled in frustration as a new wall appeared. Again. He handcuffed Lula to a grate from below her. He took Merritt’s hat right from his head. He had been listening to Lula and Merritt’s conversation as they tried to work together to find the light switch when a heavy weight dropped on him unexpectedly. The clink of his own handcuffs on his wrist made him smile. In the darkness, Dylan’s voice echoed as he said. “Well done, Jack.” Instantly, the lights came back on. Lula squeaked with surprise when she saw Dylan on the ground almost on top of her. Above him, Jack had a grin a mile wide. With a quick twist, Dylan undid the cuffs and stood just in time for Danny to come jogging up from the other end of the room.

He looked between Dylan and Jack with a shocked expression. “Jack. Jack won? He got the jump on you?” Dylan clasped the card-slight’s shoulder warmly. “Yes he did. Better luck next time, Daniel.” Daniel’s face twisted into a sneer for a split second before his mask was back in place and he nodded stiffly. “Yea, fine, good for you, Jack. Are we done now, because, you know, there are actual productive things I was hoping to do today, so-” “What, is this not interesting enough for you, Atlas?” The young showman glared at him through his growing fringe. “Actually, Dylan, it’s not. I don’t see the point.” “You need to be prepared for any condition! The outside world is a place where anything can happen!” “Everything has happened, Dylan!” Daniel yelled, getting right into the taller man’s face. “We’ve been kidnapped, we’ve worked in the dark, the rain, we’ve worked with men shooting at us! What more could you teach us?!” 

Dylan stood immobile as he weathered Daniel’s onslaught. It wasn’t the first time he had yelled at him, and it likely wouldn’t be the last, but still ached when he continued to question and fight and argue, especially after Macau. But, he put his mask on and waited until Daniel was done, and then he said. “ A magician’s best skill is always his ability to learn. And his willingness to be taught.” Backing away, he looked to the others, he said “Take a break. We’ll work more tomorrow.” He turned away and walked out of the Basement, leaving the Horsemen alone.

As soon as Dylan disappeared around the corner, Merritt turned on Daniel. “Care explaining what that showdown was about?” Daniel looked at the others faces, the anger in Merritt’s mouth, the sadness that wrinkled Jack’s forehead, and the confusion in Lula’s eyes as she looked between him and the door their leader had vanished through. “I just don’t get it, Atlas! You accepted Dylan’s our leader. You said so! So what is your deal?” Daniel glared at the mentalist. “I don’t answer to you, Merritt. So I would really appreciate if you would just back off, ok?” The older man sighed angrily. He said “Look, Danny-boy, I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to get over it. Dylan is helping, and you sure ain’t making it easy for him.” Daniel cocked his head. “Why should I?” The hypnotist didn’t answer, and instead walked out angrily. Jack glanced back at Danny as he too headed to the door. “Not cool, man.” 

Daniel scoffed as Lula followed Jack out of the room. As he walked back to the circuit board, he scowled. He may have accepted Dylan as their leader, but he just didn’t see how the others could follow him so blindly! They had done that for two years, and it almost got the man dead. Daniel was all for learning to fight, but Dylan’s fighting style got him captured. Forgive Daniel for questioning him. He huffed. Turning back, he glanced at the door for a moment before taking a breath and flicking the lights back off.


	3. 8:07 PM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the day doesn't go much better than the beginning for our poor Horseman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay!

It was another two hours until Daniel reappeared. He found the others in the area they had named the living room, an open space with several chairs and large windows. Merritt was working with Jack on cards tricks again, and Lula was sprawled over an overstuffed armchair, offering encouragement and criticism on the same breath. Dylan was nowhere to be seen. Daniel settled in a corner, watching Merritt struggle with a flip shuffle he’d been working on for days. “You know, if you relax your index finger, the cards would stop scattering.” Both Jack and Merritt glared at him, but when Merritt attempted the trick again, the cards remained in a line like they were supposed to. He muttered a “Thanks” before trying the shuffle again. Lula raised her arms in a touchdown formation and yelled “And two points for the amateur!” Merritt tipped his hat to her, causing the cards in his hands to fall to the floor again. He groaned and dropped to his knees as the younger woman giggled. “I am getting too old for this.” He muttered. Smirking, Jack crouched next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “ Nah, you ain’t gettin’ old, you’re.. Experienced.”

Merritt scowled at the other magician, then flicked a card into his nose. Jack jumped back with a squawk. Lula giggled again, and Daniel snorted from in his corner. Jack was about to retaliate when Dylan poked his head in. “Was there anything you guys wanted for dinner? I know we forgot to get lunch again.” The dark-haired man was instantly bombarded by food suggestions. “Tacos!” “Pasta.” “POTATOES!” “A show?” Dylan glanced at Danny, unimpressed, before saying “I heard potatoes loudest, so we are having potatoes.” The magician disappeared into the kitchen as the boys immediately started protesting. Daniel only rolled his eyes and walked out of the room.

Dylan puttered around the large kitchen, listening as Lula and Jack talked about a new movie they wanted to see with Merritt occasionally offering his opinion. The older man had seen Daniel leave and heard the library door shut, so he knew that if he wanted the stubborn man to eat anything, he’d have to send someone -probably Jack- to go get him. He wished the other magician would open up to him, but J. Daniel Atlas was a grown man, and when he decided he wanted to talk, Dylan would be ready to listen. Until then, the control freak could work through his own problems.

The magician let himself focus on the motions of cooking, relaxing slightly to the low white noise of the other’s conversation. As the food finished cooking, he called out to the living room “Jack! Could you please get Atlas from the library?” Jack poked his head through the door. “Yes, Dad!” The others laughed as the younger man ducked back out, but Dylan just smiled tightly and went to set the table.

The nightly “Family Dinners” had been Lula’s idea. Although they all had habits of missing meals and staying up late, the dinner made it so they could spend time together when not in lessons and practices. Dylan privately enjoyed the idea of a family meal, and it was his favorite part of the day to watch his Horsemen banter and eat. Initially, they had meant to take turns cooking, but it had taken less than a month for the job to be passed almost entirely to Dylan. But, as the others settled at the table, he couldn’t say he minded.

The mood was quiet, with residual tension from the practice earlier. Jack, happily (Or willfully) oblivious, was chattering to Merritt about the next trick he wanted to teach him. The mentalist appeared to be fully absorbed in the conversation, but Dylan caught the subtle glances that were being thrown his and Atlas’ way. Lula chose to ignore the others’ issues by eating a mildly concerning amount of mashed potatoes with the slightly more concerning toppings of bacon bits and hot mustard. Daniel was torn between giving vaguely nauseous looks at Lula’s plate and glaring at his own like it had insulted his hair. Dylan noticed how the showman was only pushing food around on his plate. He watched as Danny forcefully shoved his hair out of his eyes and stabbed his fork into his chicken with much more force than necessary. 

Sighing internally, he murmured “Danny.” He watched as Danny twitched slightly in recognition, but otherwise ignored him. “Danny. Daniel.” The brunet’s head snapped up indignantly. He raised his eyebrows dramatically and made a show of going “Yes, Dylan?” The older man waved in the general direction of his plate and kindly said “You’ve barely eaten anything, Danny. Does it taste alright? Have you eaten today?” The boy’s lip curled into a sneer. “Why do you care?” Dylan sighed. “Because you are a part of the team, and I care about you.”

Daniel dropped his fork with a clatter, drawing the other’s attention to the brewing argument. “Yea? Then why don’t you take my ideas into consideration? You’ve been practically ignoring me for a week, and now you want to get back in my business? I don’t think so.” He stood, ignoring Dylan and Jack’s protests of “Danny, come on!” and “Daniel, wait.” as he stomped out of the room. 

Jack stood to follow after him, but Dylan held up a hand, stopping him. “No. Let him go. This is something he needs to work out on his own.” When the younger man still hesitated, he gestured more firmly. “Sit down, Jack.” Reluctantly, he did. They all sat around the table for a long moment. Finally, Lula broke the silence with a blaisé “Maybe he’s on his man period.” The other Horsemen nodded and offered muttered sounds of agreement before returning silently to their meals, but Dylan simply stared after where Daniel had disappeared with a small, hurt frown on his face. 

The rest of the meal was stilted and uncomfortable, with all conversation dead from Daniel’s violent departure. After he finished eating, Dylan left the table, only stopping to pick up Daniel’s nearly full plate and remind Jack that it was his turn to wash the dishes. It was a testament to how bothered he really was that Jack didn’t complain.

Danny wasn’t in the library or the living room, which meant that he must have holed himself in his bedroom. Dylan took a bracing breath as he mounted the main staircase towards the Horsemen’s bedrooms. Daniel’s mood was unpredictable at the best of times, and after a bad argument, it was even worse. 

Once he reached the top of the stairs, he turned to the nondescript door that led to Danny’s room. Hesitating, he listened for any noise from inside. When he didn’t hear anything, he knocked quietly on the wooden paneling. “Danny? I brought up your plate.” A groan sounded from inside. “Oh my God, could you please stop acting like a dad for one second, thank you. For the last time, I am not hungry.” For a moment, Dylan considered picking the lock, just to remind the younger man he could. In the end, he simply set the plate gently in front of the door and murmured, “Good night, Daniel.” Silence followed him as he walked away. 

The observatory had been built with the Eye in mind, and as such had a plethora of secret doors, hidden storage, and sound carrying vents. Although the bedroom Dylan had taken for his own had little in the way of comfort -being barely large enough to house his bed and nightstand- or convenience, considering the third floor turret’s separate staircase was in the farthest corner of the bedroom hall, there were a handful of perks. The west facing window offered the clearest views of the sunset in the area. The others never tried to come up his daunting stairs. And the vent in his wall led directly to the living room area. 

Sagging onto his mattress, he ran his hands through his greying hair and listened with a vague smile to the cheerful banter between Jack and Merritt over which movie to watch. Jack had been pressing for a Star Wars marathon, while Merritt was leaning toward an 80’s horror movie that Dylan barely remembered from his teenage years. As Merritt lost the debate when Lula took Jack’s side, claiming to have never seen Star Wars, Dylan dressed for bed, preparing for the end of the day. He ducked into the minuscule bathroom connected to his room as his Horsemen settled in, then slid under his covers as the opening credits to “A New Hope” started. 

With his curtains pulled enough to show a glimpse of the stars, and the faint sounds of Merritt’s sarcastic commentary echoing up from where the Horsemen minus two had settled for a quiet evening, Dylan dared to hope that his nightmare’s might ease to the edges of his mind long enough for him to get a full night’s sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was running. He didn’t know whether it was towards something or away from it, but he knew that he couldn’t stop. Buildings and people flashed by, too fast to see even if he were looking. There was something he had to reach, to find, to save. What was it? Buildings disappeared, people vanished, revealing a cold black river, and a half darkened crane platform. A cluster of people stood at the edge, with four pressed to a railing, facing uncountable others. He knew without knowing that those four people were what he was looking for.

In the way of dreams, he was on the platform. A dark-haired man was joyfully talking to the others, an old man by his side. Within the same moment, his hearing cut in at the same moment he found he couldn’t move. “Your precious leader may have vanished with the chip, but, well. Four for one isn’t bad.” The man waved a hand lazily, gesturing four faceless men forward, shining metal in their hands. He screamed soundlessly as the men stepped into a line, guns pointed at the most important people in his world. Carelessly, the dark-haired one in charge said, “Anything to say?” Danny (No. Not Danny please.) Looked up, staring him straight in the eye, and declared, “He isn’t our leader. He never was.” A split second later, four gunshots rang out. Danny’s accusing look was still fixed on him as the young man toppled over the side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dylan woke as his right shoulder collided painfully with the corner of his nightstand. He yelped with pain as he finished collapsing to the floor. For a long moment, he simply lay in the shadow blackened silence.

“Damn it.”


	4. 6:02 AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel has an idea to get rid of boredom in the Eye Observatory, Dylan is suspicious, Merritt has no tact, and everyone is generally uncomfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I am sooo sorry this is so late, people! Writer's block is awful. It's a little shorter than usual, but I hope it isn't terrible. Thank you to everyone who has left kudos, and a special shoutout to BlueEmissary for their lovely comment. :)
> 
> I am still looking for a beta, or someone to at least help me to figure out how to make italics show up. If you can do this, please help!
> 
> Enjoy!

The sun was barely starting to slip in between the gap of Jack’s curtains when his door creaked open and a shadowed figure slid inside. It’s shadow arched over the bed, where the two youngest Horsemen were sleeping peacefully. The figure paused at the sight of their entwined limbs. Then it picked up a pillow and threw it at the boy’s head. 

Jack woke up with a flailing yelp, accidentally tossing Lula off of the edge of the bed. He stared up at an unapologetic Danny with wide eyes. Trying to shake awake, he said “Dude! Wha’ was that for?” Lula’s head popped up from the floor with a glare. “Yea, Danny, way to be a jerk!” 

Daniel waved them off impatiently. “Just listen to me for a second. Are you guys as tired of hiding and waiting for nothing to happen as I am?” Jack sat up, confusion written across his features. He rubbed at his eyes to try to wake up enough to understand what Daniel was saying. “Well, yea, Danny, I guess. But we ain’t doing nothing. We’re training. Preparing. We had a year between shows last time. Three months ain’t that bad.” The older man’s jaw clenched. “At least then we could go outside. I’m going stir crazy, and I’m going to do something about it.” 

Lula had rejoined Jack on the bed by this point, and looked askance at the showman. “What did you have in mind?” She asked suspiciously. Daniel spread his hands grandly, prompting an eye roll from his unwilling audience. “A street show. Like old times.” Jack bolted upright. “Are you crazy or somethin’?!” He whisper-shouted. “We can’t go outside!” Lula leaned over his arm. “I don’t know if you forgot this, Danny-o, but we are WANTED by every law enforcement agency in Europe.”

Daniel rolled his eyes dramatically. “We would wear disguises, obviously. I’m not an idiot.” The others stared deadpan at him, unconvinced. He crouched and rested his hand on the edge of the mattress. “Look, I think I speak for all of us when I say we’re all going a little stir-crazy. Wouldn’t it be easier to stay put if we had a little outing under our belts? Come on, I mean, we’re the best of the best. They couldn’t catch us.” 

Lula appeared convinced, but Jack was still shifting uneasily. Hesitantly meeting Daniel’s eyes, he stuttered, “Wha- what did Dylan say?” Clenching his jaw, Daniel leaned into his space. “Dylan. Does not know about this. Nor is he going to.” Jack’s eyes widen almost comically.

“You aren’t going to tell Dylan?!” He yelped. Daniel lunged forward, making an aborted move to cover his mouth. “Not so loud!” Danny hissed. “Dylan isn’t my keeper, and he isn’t yours. So if you decide you’re tired of sitting on your hands, let me know.” Daniel stalked out, leaving the others to stew in what he’d said.

Jack looked uneasily at Lula’s contemplating face. “You ain’t- you ain’t actually thinking about this, are you?” She shrugged, shooting him an uncomfortable look. “I mean, we haven’t been outside in months. The lessons are kind of monotonous.” “But not telling Dylan… He’d kill us.” She gave her boyfriend an intense look. “Not if he doesn’t find out.” The bedroom fell into contemplative silence.

Something was up. Dylan watched as Jack avoided Danny like the Black Plague, Lula whispered to Jack like a madwoman, and Daniel shot everyone the most suspicious glances, as if he was trying to actually use telepathy to communicate with the others. Only Merritt seemed unaffected as he went through his daily routine.

As he walked up next to the mentalist to take another turn at the coffee maker, Merritt glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “So.” He said casually. “Do you want to talk about it?” Dylan didn’t give a reaction beyond raising an eyebrow slightly. “Talk about what?” Merritt turned to face Dylan fully, and he let the leader see the concern creased around his eyes. 

“Dylan, you haven’t been sleeping well, you aren’t on top of it, and you twitch every time someone turns the sink on. That’s a problem.” Dylan wouldn’t meet Merritt’s eyes as he poured his third cup of coffee for the morning. “What makes you think I haven’t been sleeping?” The second oldest Horseman put his hand on Dylan’s shoulder, leaning in conspiratorially. “You mean other than the hyperfocusing, hand shaking, and obscene amounts of coffee? I stay up later than the others, and the vents carry sound both ways.”

Dylan jerked back from Merritt like he had been burned. The mentalist ached as his leader’s mask slammed back into place, turning him from their loyal and more than slightly tired lead Horseman to someone who looked more like the agent who had interrogated them in those holding rooms so long ago. Someone who didn’t believe in magic, the Eye, or them. 

“Thank you for your concern, Merritt, but I can take care of myself.” Dylan stalked out of the room, leaving everyone staring after him in confusion. Daniel snorted in derision. “What’s his problem?” Merritt glared at him. “Hhmm, Danny, let’s think about that, who on this team could possibly be causing our leader to lose sleep. Who, I wonder, could possibly be grating on everyone’s nerves with their constant shoves at hard-earned authority? Who, Daniel Atlas, could be constantly hurting his feelings by ignoring everything he’s done for us?” 

The kitchen was silent as the grave as Merritt stared down the younger Horseman. Daniel shifted, uncomfortable from the intense looks he was getting from every side. Eventually, he blustered for a moment, then said, “Whatever. If you’ll excuse me, I have important things to be doing.” He shoved past Jack in a half-desperate rush to get out of the kitchen.

Daniel rushed for the Basement, determined to go where the others wouldn’t look for him. He opened the door to darkness, and as he stepped in, the door slammed shut. He twisted around, trying to figure out who was in the room with him. Suddenly, a voice sounded in his ear. “You’re mad at me, Atlas? Prove it. Come find me.” Daniel threw a hand behind him, attempting to get a hit on Dylan, but the man was already gone. “Come on, Danny, you can do better than that.” Danny turned around and around, trying to place the direction his voice was coming from. “How can you see?!” Dylan’s low chuckle sounded from directly in front of him. “I can’t.”

Time lost meaning in the darkness, so Daniel didn’t know exactly how long he ran through the Basement, chasing after Dylan’s voice, his footsteps, and when the older man was feeling generous, his silhouette. For once, he let himself listen to Dylan’s advice. There was an uneasy truce that the darkness of the Basement offered, and both men took it for those few moments. Daniel was standing still in what he thought was the middle of the room, listening for the sounds of anything that would tell him where the older Horseman was. Suddenly there was a scuff, almost nonexistent in the quiet. Grinning, Danny stepped forward loudly before silently whirling around and lunging back in the other direction. He was stopped by the warmth of Dylan’s legs. 

Dylan went down with a surprised oomph as Daniel wrapped his arms around his knees. As soon as he hit the ground, he pressed the hidden button in his jacket to turn on the lights. He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped as Atlas blinked and scowled at the sudden brightness shining down at them. “Well done, Danny.” The younger man startled and stared down at him when he spoke, as if he had forgotten where he was. Dylan took advantage of his surprise.

“Look, Danny, I know things have been, well, rough recently, but I want to-” “Hey! You two in there?” Merritt’s voice echoed from outside the door, startling the other magicians. Daniel, who had still been sitting beside Dylan’s feet, scrambled up awkwardly and practically sprinted for the door. He nearly creamed Merritt with the iron door, only pausing to mutter “Thanks for the lesson I guess Bye.” at near hyperspeed before running up the stairs. 

Merritt peered around the door sheepishly. “I, uh, take it you were having a moment?” Dylan glared up at the mentalist from where he still sat on the floor with an expression that said Well, what do you think? Merritt laughed uncomfortably and said, “Right, good talk, Dylan.” He then promptly followed Atlas up the stairs. Dylan gave a bone-deep sigh and dropped his face into his hands with a thump that echoed in the now lonely silence of the Basement.


	5. 2:46 AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merritt makes an attempt at being a good older brother, Daniel makes a bad decision, and there is a lot more angst than I was anticipating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can not apologize enough for both the lateness and poor length of this chapter. The plot is coming, i promise! But inspiration is slow in coming right now. I hope to fix that soon, but in the meantime, please stick with me!!
> 
> Special thanks to BlueCookiesForRick and Aeron Shade for their wonderful comments. Seriously, they meant the world to me.
> 
> Please enjoy this very short chapter, and hang on, because another should hopefully be up soon.

Daniel didn’t show up for dinner that night. Although he didn’t show it in his facial expressions, Dylan was nearly distraught. He had been so desperately hopeful that the suddenness of their sparring in the Basement would assist towards reconciling with the younger Horseman, but it was clear from his rushed exit and the harsh avoidance tactic of skipping dinner entirely, that Daniel still had no desire to repair their strained relationship.

Dylan could feel the worried glances that Merritt was giving him out of the corner of his eye, but since the mentalist’s disastrous attempt at intervention earlier that day, he had held his emotions much more closely to himself.

He had dropped much of his stoic façade after their New Year’s show, hoping the new camaraderie the team had been enjoying would encourage communication. And for approximately a month, it had worked. Now, however, the tension was so thick Jack could have cut it with a playing card.

“Daniel was in my room this morning.” Jack randomly announced. Lula stared at him in mortification and half-shrieked “Jack!” Merritt wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously. “Oh, Jackie, getting some nice action with our two lovely ladies?” Jack cringed back, face screwed in disgust. “First, eeww, Merritt! Second, Danny isn’t a girl!” The older man shrugged unapologetically. “Are we really so sure about that?” He asked. “As our little Miss Lula so delightfully pointed out yesterday, he does appear to be working through some unusual form of male-PMS.” There were several more vehement protests from the young couple. Merritt turned to ask Dylan’s opinion and potentially make him feel better by adding him to their ridiculous conversation. He was gone.

Merritt started violently, making the other two aware of the fact that their leader had apparently vanished from the table. Groaning dramatically, Merritt said, “I really wish he wouldn’t do that. Lula looked at him in disbelief. “He does that often?” She asked. Both Jack and Merritt nodded, though it was Jack who elaborated. “Oh yea, when he first showed up after our initiation, he would just disappear all the time. Safe houses, restaurants, didn’t matta, he’d just vanish. Daniel thought it was just to annoy us, but we’re pretty sure it was cause he was still an agent for so long.” 

Lula pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Sounds awful lonely.” She offered. The boys turned to look at her in confusion. She looked vaguely uncomfortable, but continued anyway. “Well, I mean, double agent? For literally your entire life? That has to be rough. Especially when it’s between the actual, literal FBI, and a fugitive team of magicians that are part of a secret organization of criminal magic vigilantes. Did the guy get friends?” This thought sobered the already quiet kitchen even further, leaving its occupants in a contemplative silence.

It was long past midnight when a door at the stair end of the sleeping wing creaked open and Daniel slipped out of his bedroom, skillfully stepping over the cold plate of food that had been left in front of it. He crept down the multitude of the stairs leading to the first floor, then the Basement.

He didn’t dare turn on the large main lights, choosing instead to flick on a small flashlight only when he had reached the doors of the storage closets. Daniel pointedly decided not to think about why he was now able to traverse the maze of walls in the dark so easily. He went through each storage area thoroughly, plucking supplies and tricks from the shelves. Decks of cards, flash paper, handkerchiefs, anything that they could use for a small but impressive street show.

Guilt bit at Daniel as he took supplies and shoved them into a messenger bag that rested on his shoulder. Even if it was a community storage room, taking things for a show Dylan didn’t know about felt uncomfortably like stealing. The younger man grit his teeth and slung the bag over his shoulder. Dylan was dragging his feet on a new show because of Macau, Daniel was sure of it. He was convinced it was a punishment for his screw-up, for getting of them caught. But he was going to show him. This show was going to go off without a hitch. Hell, Dylan wouldn’t even know about it until it hit the media.

Deep down, Daniel knew what he was doing was a bad idea. He knew Dylan was trying to help. But Daniel was angry. He was stir-crazy. And a very small part of him wanted Dylan mad at him. The paternal, caring calm, Daniel couldn’t take it. It grated on his nerves, it didn’t fit with his view of the world. Dylan was meant to be someone to fight, to resent. Especially after a screw-up as epic as Macau. Dylan refused to get angry, no matter how much Danny pushed, and argued, and ignored, and it was driving him insane.

Daniel was silent creeping back to the bedroom hall, and he felt alive. He was really going to get away with this. He was nearly to his door before caught a glimpse of the light glowing under it. He froze. His overactive mind immediately started running scenarios of Dylan waiting behind that door, ready to scold and yell and ban him from the next show. The blowout would be nuclear. Daniel didn’t know whether to be furious or exhilarated. He pushed open his door to see- Merritt. Casually sitting in his desk chair, beer in hand.

“Merritt!” he hissed. “What are you doing in here?” The older Horseman rolled his head around, giving Danny a look that managed to be both blasé and searching. “And what,” he drawled, sitting up in his chair. “Could you have in that bag, I wonder.” He didn’t phrase it as a question. Daniel tossed the bag hurriedly behind the door and crossed his arms defensively. “Merritt, you didn't answer my question, that bag is really none of your business, and I would appreciate it if you would leave my room, because I really am quite tired, and it is late, and-” “I know what you’re planning Daniel, and it. Is. TRULY. A terrible idea.” Daniel shifted uncomfortably. “Again, Merritt, it is really none of your business.” The mentalist stood with a shrug. “I can’t stop you, and I won’t tell Dylan.” Daniel was stoically silent as Merritt walked towards his door, brushing by the younger man to do it. He was nearly out of the room when he suddenly twisted and forced eye-contact. “But Daniel? It’s only going to hurt both of you more.” With that annoyingly cryptic sentence, Merritt opened the door and disappeared back into his own room down the hall. 

Daniel stared for a long, long moment at the bag sitting inconspicuously on his floor. Then he shoved it messily under his bed and flicked off his desk lamp.


	6. 4:55 P.M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's pain. There's pie. It's a mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still alive! In all seriousness, I am so sorry. Things have been very hectic as my father passed away last month, but I will try to be catch up on this. I have not run this by my new wonderful beta yet, but I was desperate to get it to you, so I will do that. In order to appease and apologize to you, i believe this may be my longest chapter yet, so there's that. Please don't kill me, and Enjoy!

 

An odd calm had settled over the Observatory, in the manner of the clear sky before a storm. Everyone was twitchy and uneasy, though it wasn’t talked about. The relationship between Dylan and Daniel had gone from chilly to glacial. Daniel skipped almost every meal, left every plate full in front of his door, sulked within the Basement, hardly participating with the lackluster lessons they’d been doing. Jack looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and Lula had been spending the last several nights in her own bedroom. 

 

But Dylan was by far the worst. Although he still cooked and taught lessons, he was more distant than he’d been even as an agent. His face, nearly always set at a complete deadpan, was drawn, with deep bruise coloured shadows under his eyes. He slept less than Jack did, and none of the Horsemen ever saw him take in anything but larger and larger cups of coffee. He barely spoke and smiled even less. 

 

An entire week went by, a week of screaming silence filling every corner of the Horsemen’s home. Finally, Merritt made a decision. One night, after the somber dinner routine of Dylan drinking his who-knows-how-many-th cup of coffee while the others ate, Merritt cornered Dylan before he could disappear again. He didn’t give the older man a chance to say anything before he said “You are going out tonight.” Dylan just looked sadly at him and tried to gently push by. Merritt didn’t budge. “We are all full-grown adults, we do  not need to be constantly looked after, and if you stress anymore about Danny, you are going to give yourself an ulcer, if you haven’t already.” Dylan frowned at Merritt as the taller man shuffled him towards the door. 

“You, oh benevolent leader, are going to go to a pub, a diner, a club, I don’t care, but we aren’t letting you back inside for at  least three hours. Dylan looked tiredly at the mentalist as he shoved a hoodie and cap into his arms. “I know every way into this place.” He murmured, although he made no attempt to get back inside. 

 

Merritt smiled grimly. “Well, we’d be remiss if we hadn’t learned something.”  He pulled open the door and gently pushed the older man through it. As Dylan resignedly walked down the path, Merritt called after him “Eat something you didn’t have to cook!” He then closed the door decisively. The front windows filled with several heads that watched worriedly as the older man walked silently down the path. He pulled the ball cap down over his curly hair as he passed under the ancient, fritzing street lamp at the end of their drive. He didn’t pass under the next one.

 

As soon as their leader disappeared, the three Horsemen still standing in the foyer breathed out a collective sigh of relief. As they walked into the living room, and plopped heavily onto the couch together, Merritt turned to Jack. “Do you think we should block the doors,” He glanced upstairs, “Or tell the Emotionless Wonder?” Lula snorted. 

 

“He’s been hiding in his room for the last week. I doubt he’s going to come out now.” Jack nodded in quiet agreement and slouched more onto her shoulder with a quiet sigh. After a moment, he glanced at Merritt with a questioning look on his face. “I can’t believe we just kicked Dylan out of the house. Do you think he’ll be okay? He hasn’t been outside in a while.” Merritt chuckled lightly. “Jackie, he’s a master magician and a grown man. He’ll be fine.” Before the younger man could fret more, the mentalist forcefully pulled Jack’s legs over his own knees and turned on the TV, settling on some two-bit local news station.

 

From the outside, the Horsemen really didn’t have the healthiest lifestyle. What with all the hiding, the moving, and the planning, they were used to living practically in each other’s pockets. Although Henley’s empty space had eventually been filled by Lula, the younger slipped in like she’d always been there. What they were currently doing spawned from long nights in crappy hotels when they’d planned until they were brain dead, it was two in the morning, and Daniel had passed out on the other bed. They could often only afford one room, so the Horsemen would buy a room, then Dylan would slip in from somewhere later, when he could come. They would burn the midnight oil, then everyone would settle in. 

 

It was an unspoken rule that Danny got his own bed; from the kicking to the tossed sheets to the snoring, it was hard enough to be in the same room. Jack got cold easily, so he was in the middle, the girls took the left side, holding his head on their shoulders. Interestingly, neither Henley nor Lula could sleep with heavy blankets. Merritt, on the other hand, needed them. They would put the TV on to whatever crappy local channel was on that late to drown out Danny’s snoring, pile onto the other bed, and they’d be out like lights. They never knew what Dylan did, because he stayed up until they fell asleep, and was always either awake or gone when they woke up. Although they all had their own rooms now, they always slept best on the nights where they would pile into the living room like tonight. 

 

Jack stirred sleepily when the TV went on. “Shouldn’t we try to stay up for Dylan?” he murmured. Merritt waved his hand lazily in response. “We’ll be-” he yawned widely. “-fine. We can stay up for him.” Less than ten minutes later, the TV was flickering over the silence of sleep.

 

It had started raining nearly as soon as the observatory had disappeared from behind Dylan, quickly soaking through the thin hoodie he’d thrown over his shirt. He spared a thought to chuckle dryly at the odd sight his button-down and loafers made with the ragged baseball cap and hoodie he’d thrown over them. The temptation to turn around and sneak back inside was nearly overwhelming. His Horsemen would be asleep by now, if they had settled into the living room like he suspected they would. 

 

But something made him keep walking towards the growing lights of downtown. The farther he walked, the more he realized that Merritt had been right. He really had needed to get out. The feeling was as if a cloud that clung to the problems and pain back at the Observatory had started to drip away. He could still feel every worry and stress, but the misty rain and the motion of walking were helping to clear his head and put things into perspective. He walked until he reached a small pub on the edge of town. A worn sign proclaimed it The Rusty Wheel, and with a shrug, Dylan nudged his way inside. A wave of warmth washed over him as he stepped into the dimly lit room, and he shuddered pleasantly at the sensation. Finding a waitress near the bar, he gave a slight nod and sat down in a booth in a quiet corner, away from the bar and door.

 

When the waitress came over a moment later, she asked for his drink order with a flirtatious smile, leaning down a bit more than was really necessary. Dylan made sure to make eye contact and give a slight smile as he quietly ordered a “Just water, please.” The waitress pouted slightly, but backed off easily enough as she took his order back. 

 

He leaned back contemplatively in the booth. He hadn’t had anything to do with anyone outside the Horsemen or the FBI since he’d met Alma during the Horsemen’s initiation. He had meant to get in contact with her after their day in Paris, but it had never felt like the right time. The odd clarity granted to him from leaving the house let him admit he’d chickened out of calling her several times. Why, he didn’t know.

 

Impulsively, Dylan pulled out his phone and flicked down to Alma’s contact. Before he could talk himself out of it, he typed out a quick “Hello, Alma.” But before he could send it, he froze. It had been well over a year since he had talked to her last. If he were her, he wouldn’t want to talk to him. Sighing, he closed his phone and dropped it on the table, then picked up the slightly greasy menu in front of them. It had been a ridiculously long time since he had eaten at a restaurant. Dylan smiled softly. He would have to thank his Horsemen when he went home.

 

A few minutes later, the waitress, a little more subdued, came to take his order. He  quietly asked for the fish and chips- might as well go simple- and offered her an apologetic smile. She smiled back and waltzed to the kitchen, appeased.

 

It was a quiet night, and Dylan ate his food in peace, picking apart the fried fish and pouring salt over his chips. He hadn’t thought that he would be hungry, but he found himself finishing his plate before he realized it. The waitress, whose nametag read “Lidia”, had just asked him if he was ready for the check when he remembered something he’d seen on the back of the menu. 

 

“Could I have four pieces of your apple pie to take home?” She raised her eyebrow in slight disbelief. He elaborated as he pulled out a fake credit card. “It’s a peace offering.” She nodded in sudden understanding and smiled. “For the kids?” Dylan nodded distractedly as he signed the check, not really listening. As he handed it to her, she leaned in again, though much less flirtatiously. “Honey, we’re about to close, and it’s going to get thrown away. You can have a whole pie for your kiddos.” Dylan’s eyes widened, and he hurried to shake his head. 

 

“No, no that’s not-” “Sweetie” She interrupted, holding up a hand gently. “You’re clearly a single dad who needed a night out. If you need a peace offering, an entire pie certainly isn’t going to hurt.” Before Dylan could protest anymore, Lidia disappeared into the back.

 

Dylan fell back with a disgruntled huff, then shook his head and slumped back into the seat. He decided that taking a kindness from a stranger was far from the worst thing he could do on his “Night Off”. Lidia dropped off the pie and his credit card with little fanfare, offering him a simple “Good Night.” as she went back to the kitchen. Dylan slipped his card back into his wallet and quietly left, holding the pie box that was still slightly warm. 

 

The rain had stopped by the time Dylan left the building, and you could the faintest gleam of stars as he headed down the road towards the Observatory. The air was cleaner after the rain, and as he walked, he smiled. It felt like a new start to him, and as Dylan walked into the darkness, he made a promise to himself to fix things with Danny. He knew he could.

 

Resolved, Dylan walked briskly down the road home.

 

He didn’t see the shadow behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, Happy feelings! Also, not sorry for the cliffhanger. Please keep in mind, I've based Dylan's depression off of my own experience and what they show in the movie, so it is not accurate to a poster child for depression. Don't worry, more angst soon! And I will get the plot moving, I swear.
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment. They make me happy.


	7. 7:35 A.M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things actually look like they're improving. There is an attempt made at communicating. Dylan does in fact own something other than suits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Almost five months since the last update. I am so sorry. But hey, Life, what are you gonna do? Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to the wondrous, marvelous, and delightfully articulate Tyler, whose comment made my entire week and inspired me to finally finish this chapter. Cheers to you, my friend! If the plot fairy decides to stay with me, I hope to not have another half-year interlude. We can hope.

The Observatory was dark and quiet by the time Dylan was walking back down the drive to the front door. He quietly wiggled the doorknob to discover, yes, they had actually locked him out.   
Setting the pie gently on the front stoop, Dylan pulled out his lock picks and knelt in front of the door with a stifled groan at the creaking of his knees. It only took a few seconds on unlock the door, and during that time Dylan ruefully acknowledged to himself that he was definitely not as young as he had been. 

The door clicked open silently, and the eldest Horsemen slipped inside the foyer. He took a moment to tuck Jack’s cap and Merritt’s hoodie back into the hall closet, then silently put the pie, still in it’s bag, on the kitchen counter beside the fridge. A quiet humming from the next room caught his attention, and Dylan poked his head into the living room.

The TV was on to some staticy news station, the program itself long since logged off. It’s flickering blue light just barely illuminated the small pile of Horsemen that had crammed onto the one sofa. Dylan smiled gently at the sight, one he hadn’t seen since before the Oglethorpe show. Nothing more than a shadow in front of the screen, he slid into the room. As lightly as possible, he tucked a pillow under Lula’s head where it had slumped awkwardly, laid a heavy blanket over Merritt’s lap and shoulders, and placed Merritt’s hat- which had fallen onto Jack’s head- on a side table. Then he turned off the TV and vanished up the stairs.

Danny’s light was still on when Dylan got upstairs, which didn’t surprise him. What did surprise him, however, was the door sliding open as Dylan walked toward it. 

Danny poked his head out sleepily, a pen tucked behind his ear and his hair curling wildly. Dylan obviously wasn’t the one he was expecting, if the widening eyes were any indication. He went to shut the door, but Dylan was a man on a new mission, and caught it before it could close. Danny glared at him and walked to his sloppily made bed when it became clear that Dylan had no intention of leaving.

Bolstered by the admittance, reluctant as it was, Dylan slid inside and closed the door quietly. Turning to Danny, he opened his mouth… and clicked it shut again as he caught sight of the detailed dioramas and plans coating the small desk. They were obviously for some performance, and when he leaned slightly closer, he was floored by the elaborate combinations of the Horsemen’s skills that went into each trick. 

Danny had been uncomfortably shifting as Dylan looked at his illegal show plans. He had had the foresight to not name a place on any of the diagrams, but he was certain Dylan was going to figure it out. He didn’t know why he hadn’t forced Dylan out as he usually would. He suspected the “slight” food and sleep deprivation was likely clouding his judgment. He inhaled sharply as Dylan turned to him, but squinted in confusion at the odd look on the older man’s face. If he didn’t know better, Danny would almost call it awe. 

“Danny,” Dylan said, face quirking into a half smile. “These are amazing!” Danny did a double take in confusion.

“W-what?” Dylan risked taking a seat beside the obviously skittish Horseman beside him.

“Danny, the complexity and thoughtfulness in these plans is astounding. You took care to include the others equally, and the acts are such an unusual blend of all of your talents.” He smiled again, and rested a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “I couldn’t have come up with anything better myself.”

Atlas reeled from the unexpected praise. Even after the awful way he’d been acting, Dylan was infallibly caring. 

“I knew you could work something out if you put your mind to it. Is this why you’ve been ignoring us for so long?” The “ignoring me” was left unsaid.

Danny looked at the hopeful look on his mentor’s face for several long seconds. He thought of the bags under his eyes, still so visible. The smile that was wavering but there, in a way it hadn’t been for more than a week. He thought of the dozens of plates left in front of his door, meals all fully and carefully cooked, if a little lackluster. The anger that had so recently been strongly stewing in Daniel’s stomach collapsed. 

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go behind Dylan’s back again, he couldn’t hurt him like that. He may not understand why on earth Dylan would spend so much effort on him, and he still wasn’t sure he deserved it, but he had missed the Horsemen, and Dylan. He wasn’t going to do something so cruel. Not again.

“Yea. I’m done though, so I’ll be down for breakfast tomorrow.”

Dylan beamed.

Standing, he walked towards the door. But before he reached it, Dylan turned back to the startled man behind him.

“You know, Merritt was onto something. We’ve all been stuck in here for way too long. Don’t tell the others, but I’m going to plan an outing for all of us. Something to shake things up.” The man had the audacity to give a gentle wink as he slipped out the door, flicking off the overhead light behind him. 

Throwing his hands over his face, Daniel collapsed back onto his bed with a groan. His thoughts were whirling in shaky, disjointed patterns. How dare Dylan be so considerate and kind and clearly just starting to recover from a severe rise of his depression (Of course Dylan had depression, the Horsemen were pretty sure he was the only one who didn’t know) that HE had caused, and yet cared for him anyway. Danny simply couldn’t deal with it, especially considering how badly he’d been about to lash out. One thought rose very clearly to the forefront of his mind.

“I am going to Hell.”

The next morning dawned bright and clear, the rain of the night before long gone. The grass on their lawn was glistening, the sun was shining… and Dylan was cooking in the kitchen. All the Horsemen, including Danny, had come into the room at the same time, slightly wary. Danny was still reeling from their late night talk, and the others had nothing to go on other than the fact that they had woken up with a blanket on and the television off.

It was a harsh shock to see Dylan up and moving around so enthusiastically. He was wearing a button down shirt, dress socks, and a pair of plain jeans that none of them had seen before. His hair was still damp from the first shower he had likely had in days. The radio propped in the corner was playing some oldies pop song, and Dylan was actually humming along in between bouts of sneezing. The smell of bacon, coffee, and waffles was filling the kitchen, a welcome change from the cereal that had been becoming progressively more stale throughout the week.

Jack made a sound that was somewhat similar to a cat in a blender, and Dylan turned, concern on his face. “Jack, are you alri-” He was interrupted by the young Horseman throwing himself bodily at the older man, forcing him to quickly put down the fistful of silverware he’d been holding before Jack impaled himself. Dylan looked down in surprise at the boy clinging to him, who was practically shaking.

“What’s wrong?” Dylan asked. Jack actually sniffled. “You’re back.” Dylan did a double take and looked around the kitchen to see three matching faces nodding along with Jack’s sentiment. Dylan’s face wavered for a moment, then he gently peeled Jack off of him and plopped him on a stool.

“I know I haven’t been myself recently, but I did a lot of thinking last night. What would you guys say to a little outing? Not a full show, obviously, but we could go see London, have lunch, do something touristy.” Everyone’s eyes, which had swiveled to Daniel when Dylan started talking, went wide. Danny had to force down a flush of guilt when he saw the accusing looks in everyone’s eyes. He stepped forward, taking the initiative to respond to Dylan, who had started to look slightly uneasy at the long silence.

“I think that sounds great, Dylan. Did you have a place in mind?” Dylan’s eyes lit up, and as everyone settled slowly around the table, he told them a story of his younger FBI days involving an international counterfeit ring based in London, a very unorthodox way into the National History Museum, and another newbie getting so smashed they tried to make out with a movie poster. Then he offered several places that he had seen that he thought they would like. 

Nothing was perfect, not by a long shot. Dylan’s hands were shaking, and there was clearly a significant amount of effort on his part to be up and moving and sharing a story in the first place. Everyone was still giving Atlas suspicious side-glances, and the waffles were slightly over-cooked, but it was definitely a start. The storm looked like it had broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As proven by this chapter, Comments are my lifeblood. I live for your opinions, and I would delight in any constructive criticisms that can be offered. Love you all, and hopefully I will see you sooner than later. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Again, please review, and leave kudos! Thank you thank you.


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